Beginning of War
by KathyG
Summary: In story #10 of my end-times series, a number of the Israeli Jews have just escaped to Petra. The second seal is about to be opened, and the Arab nations intend to invade Israel (with Russia's help). Can the angels help an Israeli general get ready to deal with the threat to his nation-and at the same time, accept his evangelist son's calling to preach Jesus as Messiah?
1. Prologue

**BEGINNING OF WAR**

**By KathyG.**

**What would Tess, Monica, Andrew, and Gloria do, if they found themselves during the end-times scenario prophesied in the Bible, prior to Jesus' coming? What kinds of assignments would they receive? How would they handle their assignments? This alternate-universe series is my attempt to answer that question, to surmise how the angels would handle the events of the Rapture and the Tribulation.**

**The first story in this ongoing series was written by Robin Day and myself. The rest, I am writing on my own.**

**In story #10 of my end-times series, a number of the Israeli Jews have just escaped to Petra. The second seal is about to be opened, and the Arab nations intend to invade Israel (with Russia's help). Can the angels help an Israeli general get ready to deal with the threat to his nation-and at the same time, accept his evangelist son's calling to preach Jesus as Messiah? And when his son is taken prisoner of war, will they be able to rescue the young man?**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The rest of this end-times series will follow, to the greatest possible extent, the sequence and scenarios described in Hal Lindsey's prophetic books. For example, the Gog-Magog war predicted in Ezekiel will occur during the second half of the Tribulation, and be intertwined with the events of Daniel 11:40-45. Likewise, from the second seal onward, the seal, trumpet, and bowl judgments prophesied in the Book of Revelation will be opened during that same period, and consist of modern-day events the Apostle John lacked the vocabulary to describe for his readers. K.G.**

**PROLOGUE**

"You have disgraced me!" The general's voice boomed throughout his office. "That's why I had you drafted, Theodor—you've been going around all over Israel, telling other Jews that this Yeshua is our Messiah. And I won't have it!"

General Amos Agnon banged his fist on his desk, glaring at his son; a paperweight jolted with a clink. Standing at attention, staring straight ahead of him, Theodor maintained a sullen composure as he listened to his father's harangue.

The 25-year-old private stood rigidly, dark-haired and slim. Churning within him was a mixture of anger toward his father and frustration that his preaching career had been messed up like this. God had called him to be an evangelist. He was supposed to be traveling throughout the nation preaching; instead, he now had to serve in the European Union-controlled Israeli Defense Forces! Furthermore, he couldn't stop worrying about what lay ahead—he knew that Israel's very survival was in mortal danger.

His father straightened his back and clasped his hands behind it. Theodor clenched his fists, pressing them against his sides.

"Get out of here," General Agnon ordered. "I want you to go back to your barracks and think about what I have said. There will be no lunch for you today."

He waved his hand to dismiss his son. Theodor saluted, then marched out of his father's office. The mahogany door clicked shut behind him. Rubbing his forehead, the 63-year-old general went to the Operations Center, the room where all nations were monitored by computer; there, he leaned against the wall, fixing his eyes on the mainframe computer monitor spanning the opposite wall. The technicians kept track of the action coming through on their screens.

So far, the general could see no sign of any hostilities about to break out, yet he could not rid himself of a continual uneasiness about the Arabs' intentions. The mere thought of having to engage them in battle terrified him. Before he could fix his thoughts, memories of a previous battle flooded into his mind; he hurried out of the Operations Center to escape them.

Back in the barracks—set at the far end of an underground bunker—the young private slumped onto his bed and reached for his woolen prayer shawl. His fellow soldiers had gone upstairs to have lunch; the barracks stood silent and empty. Rows of neatly-made beds spanned the walls, each one flanked by a dresser. Since the barracks was located underground, no light poured through a window; instead, the overhead lights shed a harsh glare throughout the lengthy room.

With a sigh, Theodor draped the prayer shawl around his shoulders. The soft wool encased his arms and covered his chest. Bowing his head, he scratched his right ear, then took a deep breath. "God of my fathers," he prayed, "my country is in real danger. I know it. I pray for Your intervention, Your rescue of our nation—my people."

He paused to slip his pocket-sized Bible out of his dresser drawer. He ran his fingers over its soft leather covers. "And Jehovah, I also pray for my father. He does not want to admit that Yeshua is the Messiah; he's convinced that Your Son is an impostor. He's so angry with me for fulfilling the calling You placed on my life, and now he's got me in this army, preparing for battle."

Raising his head, he glared at the door. He set his Bible on the polished cedar dresser, then bowed his head to continue. "Please, Jehovah," he begged, "intervene between my father and me, and release me to continue my preaching. Do something about my father, and about this threat to my country. Please send your angels to intervene." He cleared his throat. "In Yeshua's name, amen."

He picked up his Bible and leafed through it till he found a passage he'd been studying. The mattress sagged and creaked underneath him when he shifted position. As he sat slouched, eyes fixed on his Bible, five angels stood in a row across the room, watching him.

"Theodor Agnon." Tess shook her head, as she kept her eyes on the young man. "The only son of General Amos Agnon, who has stayed in Israel to help defend it. He chose not to go to Petra with the others, and Theodor made the same decision."

The heavy-set black supervisor angel turned to face the other angels. Her ruby brooch sparkled in the glare of the overhead light bulbs. "General Agnon is a man with a deeply troubled heart." She shook her head. "Unless he can conquer his fears and his memories, he will be more of a danger than an asset to the men under his command."

Andrew nodded agreement. "His son, Theodor, is one of the 144,000 called by God to evangelize the world, and so far, he's been remarkably successful. His father has opposed his son's preaching career from the beginning." He paused to insert his hands into his pants pockets. "Right now, though, he's upset and angry because he can't understand how God could possibly use him here."

"Yes. He is," Monica said softly. A sad expression etched her face as she smoothed her long, reddish-brown hair behind her shoulder.

Gloria bit her lower lip. "We can't leave Theodor in this bunker. He's supposed to be preaching, not fighting." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Tess turned toward her. "Baby, God can use an evangelist wherever he is placed, be it in a stadium or in an army barracks. The Father will use him here, too. But we've got to help his earthly father learn the truth so he will support his son, not fight him."

Monica nodded agreement. "General Agnon is a man with some demons in his past. Demons he has not been willing to face. Demons he will not be able to exorcise unless he accepts his Messiah, and soon."

Andrew nodded. "That's going to have to change, though, and fast." He paused. "Jesus is ready to break the second seal. The War of Armageddon is about to break out, and the general will need to face his fears and his terrible memories if he is to be able to meet this threat." He furrowed his eyebrows; his eyes darkened.

"That's right." Tess scanned the angels next to her. "Moreover, he's going to have to face the fact that Puccini cannot help him—only God can. Or, to be more precise, only the Son of God can." She paused. "Four of us will help the father. It will be your job, Rafael, to help the son."

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the Hispanic angel chuckled. "Let me guess—I'm going to be a soldier again."

Tess fought back a mischievous grin. "Indeed you are, Angel Child. Just as you did, when the Father sent you to help that army commander and his estranged son make peace with each other so long ago." She wagged her finger as Rafael opened his mouth to speak. "And yes, I'm going to cut your hair again, so don't you even think of complaining!"

With an amused smile, Rafael nodded acquiescence, as memories of a previous assignment flooded into his mind. He had been assigned to help Monica assist an army commander and his bitter, angry son reconcile about four years before the Rapture. "Don't worry. I will do my best to help Theodor."

"And God will give you the help you need for your assignment." Monica touched his shoulder. "As He will, for us all."

The angels fell silent and turned their gaze toward Theodor. Setting his Bible on his lap, Theodor glanced at the cracked plaster ceiling for a long moment, a pleading look in his expressive eyes. "Please, Jehovah. Help us!" 

**END OF PROLOGUE **

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	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

The next morning, a bright-red Cadillac convertible approached the bunker, located in a vast field surrounded by distant mountains. A few clouds drifted in the north; otherwise, the sky appeared a light blue. The driver stopped the car as a guard approached, carrying a rifle.

"State your business, ma'am," the soldier ordered, holding his rifle at an angle in front of his chest.

The woman exchanged glances with her passenger, a man with gentle eyes and sandy-brown hair. "My name is Monica, and this is Andrew. We have been sent to see General Agnon," she said. "May we enter?" She spoke in an Irish brogue, and her long, reddish-brown hair flowed down past her shoulders. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and Andrew's.

"Do you have identification?" The soldier did not relax his stance.

Andrew reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a couple of papers. He gave them to Monica, who in turn handed them to the soldier. The guard scanned the papers, then nodded. "Park your car over there, beside the shed. I will inform the general you're coming."

Meanwhile, in the general's office below ground, General Agnon swiveled in his leather-upholstered chair and turned to a corporal beside him. "Tell Private Agnon to come to my office," he ordered.

The corporal saluted. "Yes, sir." He left the room.

Perched at his computer, Agnon scowled as he watched the map on the monitor screen. Technicians had networked his office computer to those of the Operations Center, so that he could monitor the enemies' movements from the privacy of his office. The hum of the air-conditioner soothed his overwrought nerves, and the cool air it emitted felt good on his face. Tall, broad-shouldered, and heavily muscled, the general had the look of the professional soldier all about him.

"Surely Puccini will protect our nation as he promised. Even if he did force many of my people to flee Jerusalem just the other day," he muttered, scowling. "Until now, Israel has been safe from attack, but everything inside me tells me that's about to change." He ran his fingers through his gray hair.

The general bit his lower lip. "Trouble is, I'm not ready to face that. I'm not equipped to meet an attack on my nation by the Arabs or anyone else. Jehovah, help us!" He shook his head.

With a heavy sigh, he laid his elbows on the desk's smooth, polished surface and rested his face in his hands. Everything that could go wrong was threatening to—everything! General Amos Agnon was not only worried about the Arabs' intentions, he was quite irritated with his only son. He couldn't believe that Theodor, of all people, would have the nerve to go around preaching for the past few years that Yeshua was the Messiah that his people had been waiting for. Every Jew knew that the Nazarene carpenter was an impostor!

Amos had endured his son's heresy as long as he could—now he fully meant to teach his son a lesson Theodor would never forget. He could only hope that getting his son drafted and placed under Amos' command would help to accomplish that.

Moreover, the thought of having to engage the Arabs in battle terrified the general. As so often happened, the ghosts of his past rose to torment him, and he shook his head violently to fight them off. Even though he had wanted to join the Israeli Defense Forces ever since he was a boy and had thought he was prepared to fight, his actual experiences in two wars had been so much worse than he had expected.

"I'm a career soldier—I'm supposed to be prepared for danger and death, and even imprisonment!" he told himself. "I thought I was, then—till it happened!"

General Agnon had first fought in the Yom Kippur war in 1973, then in the Iraqi war in 1981. He had been injured severely in one war, and taken prisoner in the other. His time in a Arab prison camp had been a horrible ordeal, filled with torture, starvation, loneliness, and—at times—light deprivation. He had endured nightmares and flashbacks about that time ever since his escape, months after his capture. To this day, the miracle, in his mind, was that he had escaped as physically unscathed as he had. He should have been permanently maimed by the torture and starvation, he knew, but he had not been. It certainly wasn't because his captors had not tried!

"It was awful," he muttered. "The prison guards were so cruel—barbaric! So many of my fellow prisoners died in that camp, and others came out permanently mutilated. It's a miracle I didn't come out the same." He bit his lower lip. "Then the wounds I suffered in Iraq—they should have killed me, and they nearly did. But they didn't." He took a deep breath. "Puccini will help us—he's got to!"

The phone jangled; he picked up the receiver and cradled it against his ear. "Yes?" he asked.

"A man and a woman have arrived. They wish to see you," the voice said on the other end. "Their I.D. checks out—they were sent by the deputy prime minister."

The general sighed and nodded. "I will see them. Send them in." He hung up. _I've still got to speak with my son,_ he thought. _He should be coming in at any moment._

The door swung open; his son marched in and saluted. _I've got to stop this!_ the general scolded himself. _My son is here, and I've got to deal with him!_ He bit his lower lip and took a deep breath, then rubbed his eyes.

Rising to his feet, General Agnon circled his desk, glaring at Theodor. For a long moment, he did not speak. He just stood at attention, clasping his hands behind his back.

"At ease, private," he said, at last. Dropping his right hand to his side, Theodor relaxed his stance. His father took a step toward him, a stern expression etching his lined face. "Have you been thinking about what I said, Theodor?"

Theodor swallowed. "I have done nothing but think since I was drafted and transferred here." He took a deep breath. "I can only repeat what I have said before, Papá."

General Agnon banged the desk with his fist, causing the paperweight to jolt. "Young man, I will not stand for such insubordination!" he roared. Theodor flinched, a sullen expression creeping onto his face. "Yeshua is not the Messiah, and I will not have you thinking He is! Or telling anyone else that He is. You are under my command now, Theodor, and I order you to desist all such heresy!"

Theodor grimaced, but did not respond. He pressed the toe of his boot into the carpet's thick tufts, but remained otherwise motionless. Amos raised his hand to slap his son, then thought better of it. He stood ramrod-straight, fists clenched at his sides, and scowled at the young man.

"Wipe that look off your face, Theodor, now!" He ground his teeth in rage. "Remember that I am not only your father, I am your superior officer. You will show me the proper respect!"

With an evident effort, Theodor smoothed the lines on his face. _Please, Jehovah, help me,_ he silently prayed. 

**END OF CHAPTER 1 **

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	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

A knock on the door startled Theodor. Grimacing, his father strode past him to open it. A man and a woman framed the doorway, both wearing IDF officer's uniforms. "Yes?" Amos asked.

"Forgive me." The sandy-haired man gestured toward the woman, then tapped a plastic name tag on his chest. "My name is Andrew. You asked that someone be assigned to assist you in running this bunker."

"Of course." Smiling, General Agnon stepped back. "Come on in."

The two stepped in; Amos shut the door. He looked at the woman quizzically. "I don't believe we've met."

"No, general, we haven't." The woman spoke with an Irish brogue; caring and compassion radiated from her expressive eyes. She held a clipboard against her chest with her left hand; diamond earrings swung from her ears. A name tag hung suspended over her own chest. "My name is Monica, and I've been sent here to handle prisoner exchanges, in the event that some of your soldiers are captured." She extended her right hand, and the general shook it, his face softening.

Straightening his back, Agnon nodded toward his son. "This is Private Theodor Agnon, my only son." Theodor raised his hand in greeting, a wan smile on his face. Agnon studied Monica's expression for a long moment.

"You have kind eyes, Monica." He paused, his usual stern expression creeping back into his own eyes. "Unfortunately, kind hearts have no place in the army—we're in the business of killing."

"You're in the business of defending your country, general," Monica reminded him. "It takes heart as well as courage and good judgment to do that effectively." Before he could respond, another knock on the door caught his attention.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Agnon opened the door again. A black-haired young man in an IDF uniform stood there, at attention. "Are you a new recruit?" the general asked.

The soldier nodded. "Yes, general. I am Rafael."

General Agnon frowned. "Forgive me, soldier, but you are not an Israeli."

Rafael bit back an amused grin. "True, general. But I was sent by the EU to serve in your bunker until I'm needed elsewhere."

With a sigh, Agnon waved in him. "Oh, well—you're not the first." He closed the door behind them. "The European Union has sent a number of foreign soldiers to serve under IDF command during the last few years. But you're the first Hispanic soldier assigned to serve under me." For a long moment, clasping his hands behind his back, he fixed his gaze upon the Hispanic angel. Rafael stood at attention, gazing past the general's face.

"No doubt, you were assigned by the deputy set over us by Elijah Dayan," Amos mused; Rafael nodded. To the others, Amos explained, "After our prime minister, Jacob Barak, escaped to Petra with the others, Dayan decided to take direct control of Israel. He's in Rome right now, with Antonio Puccini, so he's appointed a deputy to cover for him until he returns." The angels nodded; the general turned back to Rafael. "At ease, soldier." Rafael relaxed his stance.

Monica bit her lower lip. "It's my understanding that Puccini sent a whole army after the fleeing Israelis, to kill them, the other day."

Amos waved his hand toward her. "True, but an agreement is an agreement. Puccini is under a sworn agreement to protect our nation in the event of attack. He'll send his soldiers to help us, surely, if we need it."

The general turned his attention back to the Hispanic angel. "It used to be that only Israeli soldiers were assigned to my command," General Agnon commented. "That was, of course, before Barak signed the treaty with Puccini, guaranteeing our right to exist as a nation and the right to rebuild our temple. I wish that were still the case—that's the one thing I don't like about the new arrangement." He sighed. "Still, as an IDF soldier, I have to obey orders. You certainly appear to be brave and strong, and you would not be here if you didn't know how to be a good soldier. I'll take you." He shrugged.

"You can bunk next to my son, Theodor." He gestured toward his son, whose eyes shone at thought.

"Pleased to meet you, Rafael." Theodor extended his hand in greeting; Rafael shook it.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Swearing under his breath, Agnon strode toward the door and yanked it open. A heavy-set black woman with salt-and-pepper-colored hair stood in the doorway.

"Yes?" he barked, irritation in his voice. "What do you want?"

The woman fixed her eyes on his. "General Agnon?"

"Yes, I am. Who are you?"

"My name is Tess, General Agnon, and I was sent here with some important news." She clasped her hands together in front of her waist.

Softening his voice, the general stepped back. "Please come in." He gestured toward the back of the room.

Tess entered the room and inclined her head toward the other angels, then smiled a greeting at Theodor. The young soldier raised his hand in response. The door clicked shut behind her.

Tess turned toward the general. "General Agnon, I have just learned from an intelligence source that the Arabs have decided to ignore the provisions of the treaty signed by Puccini and Barak. They are preparing to mount an attack on your nation. They want to drive your people into the sea and take over your country, especially Jerusalem and the temple mount. You need to prepare your men for battle right now." 

**END OF CHAPTER 2 **

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	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

The middle-aged general's jaw dropped as he gaped at his visitor. Despite his recent suspicions about the Arabs' intentions, the news still came as a shock. He didn't want to believe what Tess had just told him. To accept the bad news meant that his premonitions were true, and he wasn't prepared to face that. He didn't know what he would do if they were.

"Where…" He swallowed. "Uh, where did you get your information?"

Tess clasped her hands in front of her waist. "A spy who infiltrated the Iranian army got hold of me. He sent me to give you the information."

The general paced the room. The harsh glare from the overhead light permeating the office suddenly appeared too bright. "No. No!"

Suddenly, he froze. A horrible memory flashed into his mind…

_Cannon blasts, rifle shots, shouts, and screams assaulted a young Agnon's ears. All around him, the Iraqi desert stretched into the horizon, clouded by gunpowder drifted over the sand dunes. Perspiration poured down his face; he reached up to wipe it off. Suddenly, next to the private, his partner collapsed, clutching his chest. "I'm hit!" the soldier screamed, then lay slumped in a pool of his own blood. _

"_Ehud!" Agnon screamed. "Ehud—don't die! Come back! Ehud!" _

_He raised his head and scanned the area frantically. What now? What was he to do?..._

"It's all right, General Agnon." Tess' voice, now soothing, reached his ears. "It's all right. You're safe here in this room, surrounded by friends and allies. And by a son who loves you."

He became aware that Tess had clasped him against her chest, and was patting his back. Slowly, the violent shaking subsided. The air-conditioner's hum penetrated his ears, and he became aware of the cool air caressing his exposed skin. With a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped back and rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Comes over me sometimes—those old memories."

"Flashbacks." Tess nodded. "You're not the first soldier to endure those. The horrors of war can leave terrible scars on a person's heart and mind."

She grasped his upper arms and looked into his eyes. "General Agnon, listen to me. Jehovah was with your during those terrible times, and He is with you now. And He will be with you during the bad times to come."

She dropped her hands to her sides, then stepped back. "What you need, now, is an armor no garrison can provide for you. That armor is called faith. No weapon can pierce that armor, because it's indestructible."

Biting his lower lip, Amos shrugged. He had no idea how to get hold of such armor, let alone how to use it.

Tess glanced toward Theodor, who gazed at his father in concern. The young private straightened his khaki-colored shirt as he exchanged glances with Rafael. Tess looked from one to the other, then turned back to the general. "One other thing, general," she added. "You and Theodor need to be on the same team if you're to be able to stand up against this coming attack. This is not the time to be at odds with each other—this is the time to pull together."

She turned to the young private. "Theodor, I'm speaking to you, too. This goes for both of you." Theodor nodded.

Stiffening, General Agnon pursed his lower lip. "Theodor needs to learn proper respect!" he retorted. "Moreover, he's got to stop spreading that heretical doctrine." The habitual stern expression returned to his face.

Monica and Tess exchanged glances. "Is that why your son was drafted, general?" Monica asked gently.

The general nodded, slumping his shoulders. "Yes," he admitted. "I had that done, myself, and then I had him transferred to this bunker so I could keep an eye on him. It's the only way I can stop him." Theodor looked away from him and said nothing.

In an effort to deflect her words, the general looked at Tess and chuckled. "You know, Tess, if you were general, I do believe every soldier under my command would jump to obey you!" The others laughed. Scratching his ear, Theodor said nothing, but bit his lower lip.

Andrew nodded. "Yes, she's no-nonsense and can be quite stern, but she has a heart of gold." He grinned at Tess, who snorted.

A shrill warning whistle startled General Agnon. He rushed toward his desk and yanked up the receiver. "Rafael, Theodor, prepare yourselves for battle," he barked, then held the receiver to his ear. "We are under attack; get all soldiers out to the battlefield! I repeat: we are under attack; prepare for battle!"

He proceeded to bark orders to his subordinates, then slammed the phone down. He whirled around and pointed a finger at Andrew. "The Arabs are invading us—right now!" he said, glancing at the computer monitor. "We must fight now!" He took a deep breath. "No doubt, Iran is leading the attack; it's wanted to destroy us for decades. Andrew, you'll have to drive me out to the field, so get the armored truck and meet me outside."

Without another word, he rushed out of the office, followed by Theodor and Rafael. Andrew hurried after him; the door slammed shut behind them both.

Agnon's emotions churned as he rushed toward the entrance, his boots clicking on the bare stone floor. He knew he had to act quickly if he was to save his country. All he could think about was getting his soldiers out to the battlefield; all else escaped his mind.

For a second, the formations he would normally arrange his soldiers in, to safeguard them, flew into his mind, then he shook his head. _Puccini will send his army when he hears of this,_ he thought, bolting out the door. _Surely we won't need the precautionary formations!_

**END OF CHAPTER 3 **

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	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Half an hour later, Theodor and Rafael hunched in a foxhole, clutching rifles. Theodor squirmed as dust settled on his face.

"It's so hot—much hotter than it normally is this time of year," he muttered, as he wiped beads of perspiration off his cheeks. "Except for the short-lived cold we endured till just the other day, it's been unseasonably hot this month."

Nodding, Rafael chuckled. His expression turned serious as he looked at his comrade. "Something is troubling you, and it's not the weather." He pulled a white cotton handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped his own perspiring face.

Theodor nodded, slumped against the hard-packed dirt wall of the foxhole. "You're perceptive." He scowled. "God called me to be an evangelist, right after the Rapture took place. One of 144,000 Jews called to that work, He told me. I'm supposed to be preaching the Gospel, not sitting here in this foxhole waiting to fight. My father is making my calling so difficult to complete right now." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, then scratched his right ear.

Rafael nodded in understanding. He sat slouched, his khaki-clad legs crossed in front of him. "Just keep trusting God, Theodor. He is with us even now." He leaned forward to touch Theodor's shoulder; the feel of his hand calmed the young soldier. "The soldiers with us also need Him. Maybe God has allowed this so that you can share the Gospel with them."

Theodor pondered that, then smiled. "Perhaps you're right." He leaned against the dirt wall that rose above his shoulder. "But unless God works on my father, even that is going to be extremely difficult."

An answering, rueful smile spread across Rafael's face. "I know. But God is able to soften hardened hearts." He glanced upward. "Why don't we pray? The fighting hasn't started yet, so this is the best time to seek God's help and guidance. Not only for the outcome of the fighting, but for your father as well."

The two bowed their heads. Theodor prayed that God would open his father's eyes and that He would protect the IDF army, including Rafael and himself. When they raised their heads, a horrible thought struck Theodor.

"My father usually takes more precautions than this when preparing for battle," he said. "He didn't spread out the soldiers to minimize injury—he's got us set up in groups, clustered together." Pulling himself up onto his knees, he scanned the other soldiers hiding in their own nearby foxholes and behind barriers they had hastily erected. Gray helmets sticking above the holes were all he could see.

"I can't believe our drones and satellites failed to detect the Arabs' movements—there must be a malfunction in them. Either that, or Iran has developed a system that jammed them." He shook his head. "We're all going to be really vulnerable when the shooting starts, close together like this."

Rafael grimaced. "I noticed that. Your father's a troubled man, _amigo,_ and not only because you've received Jesus as your Messiah and preached Him to others. I suspect he's being plagued by some bitter memories that are interfering with his judgment. He's counting just a little too heavily on Puccini's promised protection, too."

Theodor grinned, in spite of his trepidation. "You know, in spite of being just a private, you have a remarkable insight into people!" The two laughed.

A shell exploded nearby; the two ducked their heads and grabbed their rifles. Suddenly, deafening rifle shots and cannon blasts assaulted their ears. The Arab soldiers had commenced their attack on the IDF. Theodor and Rafael perched on their knees and pulled the triggers on their rifles.

Minutes passed as Theodor and Rafael fired round after round at the enemy. Thick clouds of gunpowder soon obscured their view of the other soldiers. To Theodor's dismay, many of his fellow privates died on the spot. All the while, to his relief, his father's army truck stood at a distance, unharmed. Hopefully, they would be able to leave in it when the fighting ended.

_This is awful!_ he thought. Nothing had prepared him for what was happening just then. The cannon blasts, the rifle shots, the shouts, the shrieks of injury, etc., all unnerved him. He wondered if he could stay calm and do his job. _Is this how it was for my father?_

A earsplitting rifle shot, followed by a return shot from Rafael, made him wince; he whirled to see his partner grasping his shoulder. Theodor dropped his rifle and leaned toward Rafael.

"Stay still!" he told the other soldier. "You've taken a hit! I've got to look at that wound."

Rafael shook his head, face caked with dust and sweat. "It's not bad—it can wait. You'd better keep shooting till it stops."

Before Theodor could react, terrified shouts reached his ears. Leaping to his feet, he saw all the surviving IDF soldiers fleeing the scene of the battle. "Come back!" he hollered. "Come back!"

No one responded. To his horror, the army truck gunned its engine. "That's my father!" he told Rafael. "He's running off, too!" Cupping his hands around his mouth, he screamed, _"No, Papá! Don't leave us!"_

Inside the truck, General Agnon could not hear his son's impassioned pleas. The hum of the engine drowned them out. Before he could leave the battlefield, the door swung open and Andrew hopped into the passenger side.

"Buckle up, Andrew—this is it! We're leaving!" Amos ordered, pressing the lever that started the air-conditioner. Its hum added to that of the engine.

Reluctantly, Andrew did as he was told. He fastened his seat belt and leaned back against the soft, upholstered seat, cool air caressing his sweaty face. He did not want to leave the dying soldiers, but God had ordered him to stay with the general until further notice. Other angels of death, he had noticed, were escorting the souls of the soldiers who were dying. Amos slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the truck sped off.

As he gripped the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white, a horrible memory flashed into Agnon's mind—the moment several Arab soldiers had surrounded him, rifles aimed at his chest…the long, hot, exhausting march they'd subjected him to, till they finally reached a truck they used to transport him to a P.O.W. camp…the days he'd spent in a tiny, dank cell, with only a pile of straw crawling with lice in the corner of a cold stone floor…the vicious slaps, beatings, and tortures he'd endured at the hands of his captors. He desperately wanted to put it out of his mind, to forget it for all time. The thought of enduring such an ordeal now was more than he could face.

"Where were Puccini's men?" he muttered under his breath. "Why didn't they come?"

Back on the now-abandoned, silent battlefield, Theodor climbed out of the foxhole, followed by Rafael. He looked at the other soldier's shoulder, then furrowed his eyes in amazement.

"You must have been remarkably lucky," he said, rubbing his smudged hands on his pants legs. "Your shoulder should be bleeding, but I can see no sign of injury."

Rafael smiled, then waved it off. He turned to scan the battlefield, now littered with dead soldiers. Powder drifted everywhere, creating an impression of fog on the horizon.

Wiping his sweaty face, Theodor bit his lower lip. He cradled his rifle against his chest. "My papá has left us." He shook, then lowered his head. "Somehow, we're going to have to find our own way back."

Rafael nodded. "We will just have to walk back."

A shout startled the two; a moment later, several Arab soldiers rushed toward them. They aimed their rifles at the two IDF soldiers' chests. "This is it," Theodor muttered to Rafael in an undertone. "We're being taken prisoner."

The nearest Arab soldier barked an incomprehensible order, waving his rifle sideways as he did so. "He's telling us we're their prisoners, and to drop our rifles. They want us to accompany them," Rafael told Theodor. "We'll have to do as we're told."

Reluctantly, the two soldiers dropped their rifles and raised their hands above their heads. The Arab soldiers marched them toward an army truck perched in the opposite direction from where General Agnon had parked his. Meanwhile, Andrew stood near the foxhole, watching. No one could see him; he had turned invisible. Amos had momentarily stopped the truck to get his bearings and collect his thoughts; Andrew would have to rejoin him in a moment.

Tumultuous emotions churned within Andrew, as he watched the scene. The other angels of death gathered around their charges; some assisted the souls of dead soldiers to their feet and escorted them off the battlefield. Andrew had no fear for Rafael, since the enemy could not harm him, but Theodor was another matter. While the angel of death knew that the 144,000 were supposed to survive until Jesus returned, he couldn't help but wonder if Theodor would actually make it.

_As a member of that group, he should,_ he thought, folding his arms across his chest. _He must! I don't want to take him Home._

Andrew raised his eyes toward Heaven. "Please, Father," he prayed, "rescue Theodor."

Tess appeared next to him. "He will, Angel Boy. Don't worry. Neither you nor any other angel of death will be taking him to Heaven." She touched his arm. "Don't worry about not being at liberty to escort any of the soldiers Home, either. Leave that in God's hands—He's got it covered." She nodded toward the other angels of death as she spoke. One of them waved at her and Andrew; both waved back.

Tess turned back to Andrew, pausing as he nodded acquiescence. She looked him in the eyes. "It won't be long, now, you know, till you'll be on full-time duty as angel of death. So many people will be dying, this may well be your last casework assignment for the rest of the Tribulation-unless, of course, the Father decrees differently. Better make the best of it and enjoy it while it lasts." She wagged her finger for emphasis.

Andrew inclined his head again. He had suspected that was the case. "So—God wants me to focus on my current assignment." He inserted his hands into his pants pockets.

"Yes." Tess half-turned to look at the bodies behind them. The other angels had disappeared with the souls of the dead soldiers. "Let the other angels of death take care of these soldiers, and focus on Amos. He needs you now." A commanding tone entered her voice. "Right now."

Andrew acquiesced once more, then the two disappeared. Silence had descended over the battleground. All the bodies lay in clusters, here and there. A breeze waved the tips of the grass gently. 

**END OF CHAPTER 4 **

4


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

General Agnon sat slumped at a pine desk in his bedroom, shoulders slumped, face buried in his hands. He had hung his jacket on a coat rack in his office, then trudged to his quarters. His shirt hung dirty and rumpled on his body; his tie looked askew. He took deep breaths, trying to take control of his emotions. He had left Andrew in the Operations Room, to watch things; when he had left, Andrew had perched on a swiveling stool, to keep an eye on the mainframe computer spanning the wall.

Amos couldn't shake off the deep-seated feeling of shame churning within his gut. He had let his men down! How could he have failed to take the proper precautions to minimize the danger of death and injury? How could he have grouped them so close together, instead of ordering them to spread out as he would normally do? He had been so confident of Puccini's immediate assistance that he had failed to do what he, as a general, would have normally done to protect his men. Because of his carelessness, his only son could be dead now!

"And I'm the one who put him in that position," he muttered. "If he's dead, it's my fault." He shook his head. "I was so sure Puccini would immediately send his troops—he did not!"

A knock on the door penetrated his fog of guilt and misery; he slowly raised his head. "Come in." He swiveled in his desk chair to face the doorway.

The door swung open; Tess framed the doorway, a serious expression etched on her ebony face. "Forgive me, General Agnon, but I've got bad news," she said slowly. She stepped forward and clasped her hands together in front of her waist. "Your son and Rafael have been captured. They've been transported to a prisoner-of-war camp the Arabs have constructed." She paused as the general's mouth dropped open in horror. "You have a visitor waiting in your office with some more news you need to hear."

With a sigh, Agnon rose to his feet and led the way toward his office, his boots clicking on the stone floor. Upon entering, he found another woman seated in a chair facing his desk. She wore a brown suit dress and carried a clipboard. Reddish-brown hair hung down to her shoulders, and a pair of glasses perched on her nose. She rose to her feet and turned to face him.

"General Agnon?" She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she spoke. "My name is Gloria. I come with news regarding the attack by the Arabs."

"Yes?" The general stood silently, an uneasy feeling welling up in his stomach.

Gloria glanced at Tess, then turned back to Amos. "I'm so sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, on top of what you've already learned. But the Russians have decided to help the Arabs drive you and your people out of Israel."

She paused to glance down at her clipboard. "I have just received this news from a spy who infiltrated the Russian ranks. The Russian prime minister has territorial ambitions, it seems, and he's been wanting to take over the Middle East since he was elected to power. He's decided to take this opportunity to do so now. Now that Israel has finally been made wealthy by its newly-discovered oil fields, he covets your wealth and wants to take it for his own nation."

She paused. "With the help of the countries that used to be behind the Iron Curtain, he's going to start off by helping the Arabs conquer your country; in the process, he's going to double-cross his allies."

"Double-cross?" The general held his breath.

Gloria nodded. She paused to brush her hair out of her eyes. "He's going to take over the Arab and African countries, including Egypt. Puccini has only just learned of their plans, so he's had no opportunity, yet, to muster his own armed forces. They were able to successfully jam his satellites and planes, as they did yours."

This was too much! Amos clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Get out!" he screamed. "Leave me alone—just leave me alone! Now!"

Exchanging sorrowful glances, Tess and Gloria left. The door clicked shut behind them. The general pounded his fist on the desk; his hand throbbed.

"Why, Jehovah?" he hollered, clutching his hand. "Why now? How could this happen? Why didn't You stop it?!"

He slumped into his chair, then took several slow, deep breaths. He squeezed his eyes to shut out the overhead light's harsh glare. "Jehovah," he prayed, "I am faced with a situation I don't know how to deal with. The Arabs and the Russians are massing together to attack my nation; my son and his comrade have been taken prisoners of war."

He pressed his fingertips against the desk's smooth, polished surface. "Please save them both. Please bring them back safely." He swallowed. "Amen."

Opening his eyes, he shook his head. "I wonder if He even heard me," he mumbled.

"Of course He did." 

**END OF CHAPTER 5 **

2


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

The familiar voice startled Amos; he shot up in his chair to find Tess standing in front of his desk. "I told you to get out!" he hissed, glaring at her.

"I know you did, general. But God told me to come back." A Heavenly light poured off her ample body.

General Agnon's hands trembled; his heart pounded. "What—who are—?"

"I am an angel. Sent by God." Tess took a step forward, then rested her fingertips on the smooth surface of his desk. "I don't want to spend a lot of time helping you to accept that, Amos Agnon, because time is of the essence and your son's life is at stake. So is the survival of your nation. A lot depends on the decisions you make right now, general."

Amos swallowed hard. "I made a terrible mistake." His voice shook. "I sent my men out to battle without spreading them out over the battlefield, to maximize their chances of survival. As a result, I lost a lot of my soldiers, and my son and his friend have been taken prisoner."

"I know that, general." Tess' voice softened. "You can't spend the rest of the day dwelling on that now. God is going to use your mistakes for His glory, but you've got to give them to Him." Tess paused. "Moreover, you've got to face your fears. The fears that impaired your judgment today, so that you couldn't think clearly enough to take the necessary precautions."

Moaning, Amos buried his face in his hands. "I wish I could. But I can't!" His voice broke. "What happened to me was so horrible."

Tess' voice turned even more gentle. "I know that, general. And I know it hurts to remember those times now. But God wants to heal your memories, so that they won't hold you back in the future." She paused; he slowly raised his head. "Because an extremely dangerous time is now descending on your nation and on the whole world, and you will need all the clear thinking you can muster to get through it. More importantly, you will need the spiritual armor I told you about earlier, to keep you from breaking under the dangers of this period." She wagged her finger for emphasis.

Leaping to his feet, General Agnon pushed his chair back and thrust his hands in front of him. Backing against the wall, he shook his head rapidly. "I can't! I can't!" he said. "I can't face those memories—not now!"

"With God's help, you can. And He _is_ going to help you." Tess circled his desk to approach him. "He sent me to be with you as you face them at this time, so you can be freed of their destructive power." She placed a calming hand on his upper arm.

The next thing Amos knew, he and Tess stood in a dank, dark cell. Stone walls and a rock floor encased them; a small window set just under the low ceiling let a few rays of sunlight in; a sour, sickening smell permeated the room. Bars in the window divided the reflected sunlight into dark bars of shadows on the floor. A young man sat slumped on a lumpy pile of straw, gazing up at the window, wearing a bluish-gray prison uniform. Beads of sweat rolled down his face; he reached up to wipe them off with the back of his hand.

"That's me!" General Agnon bit his lower lip, as he gaped down at his younger self. "That was me, when I was taken prisoner in the Yom Kippur War." He looked at Tess. "The war ended long before my captivity did. It was only by a miracle that my nation wasn't destroyed in the process."

"Yes, it was, and yes, it did. Your country came dangerously close to being wiped out in that war. But just as Jehovah came to your country's rescue during that time, He finally helped you to escape the prison camp later." Tess nodded toward the younger man. "Just watch what happens, Amos." She put her hands on her ample hips as she spoke.

The jangling of keys outside the door caught his attention; it also startled his younger self, so that he straightened his back and fixed his gaze on the door. Apprehension etched his face; his hands shook.

"I never knew if they were going to bring my food, interrogate me, or torture me," General Agnon explained to Tess. "I dreaded every time someone came to my cell—dreaded what they were going to do."

Tess nodded. "I know you did. And I know you're dreading to watch what's coming now. But you are not facing this alone. You didn't face your ordeal alone then, either, although you didn't know it at the time. You're about to find out how God preserved you, how He kept their torture from inflicting permanent harm on your body."

Amos yearned to shut his eyes to the horrible sights he was about to endure. Better yet, to flee! He had never been able to come to terms with the losses and suffering he had endured in battle, and the thought of having to face them now terrified him.

The door swung open; an immaculately-dressed commandant entered, followed by a couple of guards. The commandant grinned at the younger Amos Agnon. "You have a choice," he told the quaking young man. "You can tell us everything we need to know, or you can die right now. Take your pick." He adjusted his cap as he spoke.

Amos shook his head, glaring up at the commandant. He made no move to rise to his feet, but remained crouched on the rancid straw. "I will never betray my country." He swallowed. "So if you're going to kill me, go ahead."

The commandant nodded toward the guards. "Do what you must."

As the middle-aged Amos watched in horror, frozen, unable to speak, the guards yanked his younger self to his feet. They began to beat him, punching his stomach, pounding his face and his chest, kicking his legs. At that moment, another man appeared in the room. Heavenly light poured off him, as it did off Tess.

Amos turned to Tess. "Is that an angel?"

Tess nodded. "Yes, Amos. That is one of my colleagues. You weren't permitted to see him then, but God has opened your eyes so you can see him now. Watch and see what he does—what he did to protect you."

General Agnon turned his attention back to the scene in front of him. Unseen by the younger Amos or by his captors, the angel slipped in front of the frightened private; from that moment, all the blows fell on the angel.

After several long moments had passed, the commandant raised his hand. "All right, enough! I'm not ready for him to die yet." The guards stepped back; the private slumped onto the pile of straw. Leaning against the wall, he clutched his stomach and took deep breaths, then dropped his hands onto the straw beneath him, crawling with lice.

"I will be back." The commandant turned to approach the door. In the entrance, he stopped to look back at the P.O.W. "You'd better think about cooperating if you want to live, soldier!"

He left, followed by the guards. The door slammed shut.

Amos leaned against the cold stone wall, staring down at his younger self; memories flooded back. "I remember now." The general shook his head in wonder. "I sat there wondering why that beating hadn't injured me as severely as one would have expected it to. Even my stomach didn't ache nearly so badly as it might have, after being punched several times by the guards." He paused. "And that wasn't the only time, either."

"No, it wasn't." Tess patted his shoulder. "Time after time, God sent an angel to take the brunt of your torture so you wouldn't be permanently maimed by it. And when He was ready for you to escape, He sent another angel to help you get past the guards and to find your way back to your outfit."

"The man who came to me several times during my captivity?" General Agnon furrowed his eyebrows. "He had some keys, same as the guard, but he didn't glow as you and that angel who protected me did. Did he leave the cell door unlocked?"

"He did, and he distracted the guards so they wouldn't see you." Tess smiled at him. "So you see, General Agnon, God was with you throughout your ordeal, even though you couldn't see that. And when you were critically wounded in the Gulf War in 1981, He sent another angel to minister to you while you lay bleeding on the battlefield. That same angel visited you several times in the army hospital later, as you lay there recovering."

She squeezed his shoulder, then dropped her hand to her side. "God kept you alive through both wars, so He could use you now. He has a purpose for you in the war that has just started. But you've got to turn your fears over to Him so He can use you effectively."

General Agnon closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Jehovah," he prayed, "please release me of my fears so I can go after my son and his friend. Please save them both. Amen."

He raised his head to find himself back in his office. Tess stood next to him, the Heavenly light gone. Once more, the air-conditioner emitted its soothing cool air on his exposed skin. Clasping her fingers in front of her waist, the angel smiled.

"God has a message for you, general," she told him. "Part of it you will be told later, but right now, He wants you to know that He has heard your prayers and He will clear the way for you to rescue your son. Just trust Him—He will make a way."

The general nodded. At that moment, three knocks caught his attention. "Come in!" 

**END OF CHAPTER 6 **

3


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

The door swung open; Gloria entered. "Hello, general." The door clicked shut behind her; she approached General Agnon with an expression of trepidation. "I'm afraid I have some more bad news to report."

"Yes?" The general stood ramrod-straight.

Gloria glanced down at the clipboard nestled at her chest. "The spy I told you of has just called me on my cell phone. He informed me that the Arab army that captured your son intends to turn him over to the Russians for interrogation." She paused. "They mean to force him to tell them where your forces are holed up and where your weak spots are, so they can exploit that."

The general swallowed hard, as he exchanged a troubled glance with Tess. "Then—then what?"

Gloria bit her lower lip. "Then they intend to kill him."

"No, they will not!" Amos exploded. "They are _not_ going to torture and murder my son! I am going after him, and I am going to bring him and Rafael home." He squared his shoulders as he spoke.

Tess nodded. "And we will help you," she promised. She put a hand on his arm. "Don't give up, General Agnon—God is with you. Your son has his own spiritual armor that will protect him. You need that armor, too."

"And how is that armor going to protect my son from torture?" the general roared. "He needs an angel to do that!"

Tess chuckled. "Don't worry, general—he's got one! An angel is with your son even as I speak."

"An angel? Who?" Amos's eyes widened, as a realization slammed into his brain. "Rafael!" he gasped. "Rafael is an _angel_?!"

Clasping her hands together, Tess chuckled. "You're a perceptive man, General Agnon. Yes, Rafael _is_ an angel, and God sent him to be with your son and to encourage him. Angels cannot die, so you need have no fears for his safety. He will stay with Theodor for as long as your son needs him. We will tell you more later, but first, we must get ready."

Gloria nodded agreement. "Turn it over to Jehovah," she said softly. "He will handle it for you." She fingered her glasses as she spoke.

The general bit his lower lip and gazed at the ceiling's cracked plaster for a long moment. At last, he acquiesced. "I will try." He folded his arms across his chest.

The door swung open; Monica came in, clasping her own clipboard. "I came as soon as I heard," she told Amos. "I'm so sorry about your son." The door clicked shut behind her.

"Thank you." A grim smile spread across his face. "I'm glad you're here, Monica, because I am going to need your help." He dropped his hands to his sides and stood ramrod-straight.

"I know." Monica smiled. "I will go on ahead of you to the prison camp, to make preparations on your behalf. Andrew is going to cover for you here until you return."

"Thank you." General Agnon looked at his wall clock. "Well, come on, everyone—let's get started!"

The angels left his office. "Aren't you going to tell him the rest?" Gloria asked Tess in a low voice. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her shoes clicked on the stone floor.

Tess shook her head. "He's not ready to hear it yet," she said. "When the Father gives the word, we will do so. His heart is still closed to the idea of Jesus being the Messiah. It will have to be softened by what is coming up, first." Gloria nodded.

Monica smiled. "Adam has been doing a wonderful job of spying for us." Adam was an angel of death, a colleague of Andrew's.

Tess chuckled. "Yes, he has, Angel Girl, and the intelligence he's gotten us is going to help us rescue Theodor."

In his office, General Agnon made a couple of phone calls, then grabbed his jacket from the coat rack. He knew he had no choice. If he was ever to see his son alive again, he had to take some possibly great risks to rescue the young man. All he could do, now, was turn it over to Jehovah and trust in His protection and provision for them both.

"If I hadn't forced him to be drafted, he wouldn't be in this danger now," he muttered, rushing out the door. "It's my fault he's in this trouble, and with God's help, I'm going to get him out of it!" 

**END OF CHAPTER 7 **

2


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Meanwhile, at the prison camp, Theodor and Rafael sat cross-legged against a corrugated tin wall, their boots making soft impressions in the hard-packed dirt floor. They bowed their heads, silently praying. They had been locked in the cell over an hour before, after a lengthy interrogation by the Iranian commandant. Beads of perspiration rolled down their faces; Theodor wiped his own face with the palm of his hand.

At last, he raised his head. "Rafael, are you aware we've been here for a long time?" Theodor asked.

Rafael shifted position. "Over an hour-and-a-half, to be exact, since we entered this prison camp. The commandant interrogated us for half-an-hour before locking us up in this cell. It feels like a long time, doesn't it?" Theodor made a face, then nodded agreement.

Slouching against the wall, the Hispanic angel glanced up at the barred window next to the ceiling, then drew out his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his face. Sunlight poured through the window, creating alternating bars of sunlight and shadow on the dirt floor. He then loaned the handkerchief to Theodor, who used it to wipe his.

"Thank you, Rafael." He handed it back.

The jingling of keys caught his attention; as Theodor lifted his head, the metal door swung open. A guard stepped in, a steely glint in his hard eyes. Theodor swallowed hard—he and Rafael had met this guard when they'd arrived. The man had shoved him, then Rafael, viciously into the cell after their interrogation.

_That guard is cruel—I can see it in his eyes,_ he thought. _He would kill us in a minute if he thought he had to._

"Are you aware that you're going to be turned over to the Russians tomorrow?" the Arab guard asked. "You have information they want, and you will give it to them."

Theodor and Rafael exchanged glances. "And why would the Russians want any information from us, Ahmad?" Theodor asked.

A smirk slowly spread across the Iranian guard's face as he leaned against the doorframe. "Because, private, the Russians are going to help my people destroy yours. They're going to help us invade and destroy your nation. They're going to wipe out every Jew who lives in the land that should be ours." He paused, scanning the two P.O.W.'s faces. "Neither of you can stop them—or us! Nor can you save yourselves from the death that will be yours, when they're finished with you." He slowly moved his finger across his throat to emphasize his point.

Theodor said nothing. He fixed his eyes on the guard's, bringing his knees up to his chest. With a satisfied grin, the guard left, locking the door.

Misery welled up in Theodor's gut. He sat slumped against the wall, khaki-clad legs folded upwards in front of his chest. He knew the guard was not bluffing. If the Russians were indeed planning to invade his country, then they would go to any lengths necessary to get the intelligence they wanted. They would torture him if they thought they had to, and they _would_ have to! They also intended to kill him and Rafael, the guard had said—once again, Theodor had no reason to doubt him.

The question was, wasn't he supposed to survive till the end? If he was, indeed, a member of the 144,000 Jewish evangelists as he had been led to believe, he wasn't supposed to die! He gazed down at his feet, lips turned downward, breaths quick and shallow. _Could I have been mistaken?_ he wondered.

"Theodor."

The private said nothing. He stared down at the dirt floor, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

"Theodor. Look at me."

Slowly, he raised his head. As he turned to look at Rafael, he gasped. An unearthly light poured off the Hispanic soldier's body.

"What—what's going on?" His jaw dropped.

"Don't be afraid." Rafael straightened his back. "I'm an angel, sent by God. God sent me to stay with you through this time."

Relaxing, Theodor nodded. "I thank Him for sending you." He scratched his ear.

Rafael shifted position to face the soldier directly. "Theodor, what Ahmad told you is true." He paused. "The Arab nations _have_ teamed up to invade your country, and the Russians are going to help them. The Eastern European nations that used to be controlled by the Soviet Union are going to help the Russians. What Ahmed doesn't know is that the Russians are going to double-cross their allies first."

"Double-cross?" Theodor stared at the angel.

Rafael nodded. "Russia has always had territorial ambitions," he said. "Those ambitions were muted after the fall of Communism, but they never completely died out. Their current prime minister has been determined to take over the Middle East ever since he was elected."

"They want the land bridge, don't they?" Theodor asked softly.

Rafael nodded. "Yes. He wants control of the land bridge, so he can control the oil and have the means to invade Europe and Africa. Now that Israel has, at long last, discovered its own oil reserves, he's eager to take it as well as the oil belonging to the Arabs. He will invade Africa, too, including Egypt."

Theodor swallowed hard. He inclined his head in full understanding of what Rafael had said. For a moment, the month when several oil wells had been dug, two years before, flashed through his mind. That discovery had brought unprecedented wealth and prosperity to Israel since. He blinked his eyes to refocus on the current situation. "What is going to happen to Israel?"

Rafael leaned against the wall. "Well, Russia will try to wipe out your people. Your nation has become most prosperous since the Rapture—in large part, because of your newly-found oil—and Russia wants to gain control of that wealth. But God is going to destroy its army, totally; when the time comes, He's going to inflict much destruction on the nation of Russia as well." He paused. "In other words, Theodor, God is going to supernaturally deliver your nation and your people from the Russians, and from their Arab and Eastern European allies. That will not happen for many months yet, however."

Theodor relaxed. "Thank You, Jehovah," he prayed, looking up at the metal ceiling. He turned his gaze back toward Rafael. "What will happen then?"

Rafael bit his lower lip; sadness welled up in his eyes. "The world is entering a terrible time, Theodor. But I think you already know that." He paused. "The war has started out with conventional fighting, but it's going to become nuclear in matter of months. And it won't stop with the destruction of Russia and its allies but will last three-and-a-half years, until Jesus returns." He swallowed. "China will get in on the fighting, and it will lead a huge, 20,000,000-man army toward Israel. It will inflict much nuclear damage in the process."

Taking a deep breath, Theodor nodded. "Armageddon."

"Yes. And the war will kill millions of people and inflict terrible damage on the world's ecology. And of course, you know about the mark of the beast and the terrible slaughter that mark will cause, once it goes into effect. Mankind will come very close to being wiped out." Theodor winced.

Rafael touched his arm. "Don't despair, though—God will not allow the war _or_ the mark's enforcement to wipe out mankind. It will come very close, though, as I said. But just before that happens, He will send His Son back to earth to save it from being destroyed. Yeshua will start His new Kingdom when He does. It will last a thousand years."

Theodor beamed. "I'm glad to hear that." He reached upward to wipe a bead of sweat off his cheek.

"Me, too." Rafael smiled back. "Theodor, God has a personal message for you." He leaned forward. "He wants you to know that you were not mistaken—you are, indeed, a member of the 144,000 Jews He has called to evangelize the world. He will keep you alive until His Son returns, and He will prosper your ministry. Your father's action to have you drafted will not stop that. In fact, God is working on your father now, to open his eyes to the truth. He has sent other angels to do that."

Theodor sighed. "That is good news!"

"Yes." Rafael grinned, then turned serious. "That doesn't mean you will have it easy, though. You won't die, but you will go through tough times during the next three-and-a-half years. You may lose your father during that time—as you know, Puccini is planning to force the whole world to accept his mark. Your father may be forced to die for Jesus if he accepts Him. But the Father will preserve you, Theodor, and He will use you to bring many to Christ. He has already used you to do so, and He will continue to."

Theodor smiled gratefully. "Thank You, God, for Rafael," he prayed. "You did hear my prayer for angels, and I praise You for it!" He paused to scratch his right ear again. "As You have sent an angel to strengthen and encourage me, please send other angels to rescue us both. In Yeshua's name, amen."

"Amen," Rafael repeated.

While the two sat chatting in their cell, Monica arrived at the gate of the prison camp in an army jeep. Her clipboard lay on the seat next to her. Before she could do anything, Tess appeared in the seat next to her.

"Don't try to speak to the guard," she ordered. "He will think you're a woman and try to shoot you on sight. The Arab Moslems have absolutely no regard for women, as you know." She glared at the guard pacing back and forth in front of the gate. The convertible had become invisible to human eyes, Monica noticed.

Monica acquiesced. "What should I do?"

Tess nodded toward the building behind the fence. "Just go into the building in your invisible angelic form and follow the Father's orders."

Monica incliined her head. "All right."

Tess disappeared. Monica turned the jeep and drove behind a distant abandoned building. She would have to obey the Father's orders, she knew. As she pulled to a stop, she leaned back against the upholstered seat and gazed up at the cloudless sky.

"Please, Father, tell me what to do now," she prayed. As she received her orders, she smiled gratefully. "Thank You."

In the next instant, she found herself in a narrow, dimly-lit metal corridor. She had left her clipboard behind in the jeep. She had her instructions from God; she had only to wait for a particular guard to pass by. Monica was determined to get through to that Iranian guard. If she failed, innocent lives would be lost in the rescue of Theodor Agnon. She could not let that happen.

Approaching footfalls signaled his approach. Monica raised her eyes toward the ceiling and propped her fingers together. "Please, Father," she prayed, "give me the words for him." 

**END OF CHAPTER 8 **

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	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

A guard came into view; he froze upon seeing her and whipped his pistol out of its holster. "Where did you come from?" he growled, as he fired the pistol.

To his evident shock, the bullet went right through Monica's chest without harming her. An amused smile spread across the angel's face. "I came from Heaven. From God." A Heavenly light poured off the Irish-tongued angel; she smiled, then reached out to the guard. "I am an angel, Ahmad Pahlavi, sent by God. Not the false God you call Allah, but the true God of the universe who created you, and who loves you more than you could ever comprehend."

She laid a couple of fingers on the pistol's cold metal surface. "I cannot be harmed by human weapons, so it is useless to fire your gun at me."

Ahmad's face turned pale; his hands trembled as he slipped his gun back into the holster. "Don't be frightened," Monica said gently. "God sent me to you because He has a message for you."

"A message?" Ahmad's voice shook. "What kind of message?"

"The message is this: God loves you. He wants you to know that." Monica clasped her hands in front of her waist. "And He wants you to release the two prisoners your commandant locked up today."

Backing away, Ahmad glared at her. "I recognize _no_ God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet! Allah commanded us to kill all infidels who won't convert, and Jews are infidels! He commanded us to take back all holy places that have been taken from us, and Israel was taken from my people back in the 1940s!" he shouted. "I will not—!"

Monica raised her hand to silence him. "Yes, you will. You must! You and your fellow Arabs are on a campaign to destroy a nation and a people God loves and chose for Himself, thousands of years ago. The hatred you and other Moslems bear toward His chosen people does not come from Him. It comes from the evil one—from the devil himself."

She took a step forward. "The true God loves you so much, Ahmad. He wants you to know His love, to live in it, and to love Him in return. He also wants you to love other people, including Jews." She touched his arm. "He does not want you to turn Theodor Agnon over to the Russians, but to set him free. Rafael, too."

Ahmad shook his head stubbornly. "I don't believe you. Allah wants Israel destroyed, and he will help us accomplish our goal. In fact, he is sending the Russians and their Eastern European allies to help us."

Monica's eyes turned sad. For a few seconds, she stood there, silently. "The Russians are playing a trick on your people." She paused, as the guard's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "The Russians have said they will help you invade Israel, yes. But they also intend to invade every Middle-Eastern country they've pledged to help. Including yours." She bit her lower lip. "In fact, Ahmad, they're invading your country right now, even as we speak."

Ahmad gaped at her. "No," he hissed. "You're lying! The Russians would never betray us!"

She shook her head. "No, Ahmad. As an angel of the Most High God, I am an angel of truth. It is the truth that will set you free—not lies." Monica sighed. "And the truth is, the Russian army is marching into Iran right now, with the intent to take it over. They want to control the whole land bridge, so they can take over Europe, Asia, and Africa. Not just Israel, but all other countries, too." She paused. "However, they will not succeed—they will, indeed, sweep through Israel and, later, try to annihilate it, but God will destroy them when they do. He will rescue Israel from the destruction your people and the Russians have planned for them."

Ahmad stared into her eyes for a long moment. He sagged his shoulders. "You're—you're _not_ lying," he said, at last, his voice subdued. "The Russians really are invading their own allies?"

Monica nodded. "Yes, Ahmad. They are. You will need God to see you through the hard times that are starting. Not just for you and your country, but for the whole world."

The guard turned his back to her and thrust his face into his hands. Silently, Monica watched him struggle with his emotions. _Please, Father,_ she prayed. _Get through to him! Open his heart._

**END OF CHAPTER 9 **

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	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

At last, Ahmad slowly pivoted to face her. "What—what does God want me to do?" he finally asked. "Besides releasing the prisoners?"

Monica laid a hand on his shoulder. The smell of stinky sweat reached her nostrils. "He wants you to give your life over to His Son—the One who died for you 2,000 years ago. He will set you free. He will forgive you of your wrongs against Him and against other people. He will give you His peace, His joy, and His love for other people, and no circumstance will be able to destroy that peace. And when He returns in just three-and-a-half years, to set up His Kingdom, you will live in fellowship with Him forever—first on a restored earth, then on a new earth."

Ahmad bit his lower lip. "And how do I do that?"

"Pray." Monica's voice turned urgent. "Pray to Him now. Ask Him to come into your heart. Ask Him to forgive you. He is listening, Ahmad, and He will do the rest." She dropped her hand to her side, then clasped both hands in front of her waist.

Sagging his shoulders, Ahmad lowered his head. "I don't know You, Jesus," he admitted. "All I know of You is what my imam and my Koran have told you. They said that You were a prophet, but not the Son of God." He paused, to glance up at Monica, then lowered his head again. "This angel has told me that You really are God's Son, and that You're listening."

He leaned against the corrugated tin wall, taking a deep breath. He folded his arms across his chest. "Well, I am here, and if You want me, well, I want to be Yours. I ask You to come into me, and to forgive me. To make me Yours." He swallowed hard. "Amen."

Straightening his back, he looked at Monica, who beamed. "He has heard you, Ahmad, and the angels are rejoicing over you now!" A radiant smile slowly spread over the guard's face.

A pocket-sized Bible appeared in Monica's hand; she handed it to Ahmad. "God wants you to have this, and to study it. It is His Holy Word. As you have studied the writings of Islam, now He wants you to study _His_ holy writings. They are contained in this book."

Ahmad ran his fingers over its soft black leather cover. "I am a dead man if I'm caught with this," he said slowly.

Monica squeezed his shoulder. "As I said earlier, Ahmad, these are dangerous times. And they will be especially dangerous for believers who come to faith in Jesus, because the world system hates Him. Many will die for Him rather than deny Him."

She paused. "You may well be called on to make that sacrifice—not by strapping explosives to your body to murder others, as the suicide bombers used to do, but by accepting death to stand true for the Lord." Her voice turned gentle. "If that happens to you, God wants you to know that He has a great reward for you in Heaven. Not 70 virgins, as your imam taught you, but a reward so much greater and better than you could ever imagine."

Nodding, Ahmad glanced down at his new Bible, running his index finger over its soft leather cover. When he raised his head again, Monica had disappeared.

"Jesus," he whispered, "I'm not used to praying to You, and I'm still not 100% sure that You are really who Monica says You are. I need to be convinced." He bit his lower lip as he tried to think of something that would give proof. "Jesus, if You really are God, and if You really do love me as Monica said, please protect my Bible. They will kill me and take it from me if I'm caught with it."

With a sigh, he slipped the Bible into his jeans pocket and returned to Theodor and Rafael's cell. All he could do, now, was to wait and see what happened. Pulling his jangling keys out of his other pocket, he inserted them into the lock. The door creaked open.

For a long moment, he just gazed down at the two prisoners, now perched on the narrow, lumpy cot. A fly buzzed on the tin wall across the cell. "You are free to go," he told them. "I will lead you to a side door where you will not so easily be seen."

Rafael rose to his feet and faced the guard. "God is proud of you, Ahmad. He wants you to know that." The same unearthly light that had poured off Monica now poured off him. Ahmad gaped at him in shock.

Rafael chucked. "Yes, I'm an angel, too. Just as God sent Monica to speak with you, He sent me to be with Theodor, here." The Hispanic angel smiled at the young soldier as he stood up and shifted his weight from one foot to the other; a broad answering smile spread across Theodor's face.

Rafael turned back to the stunned guard. "Ahmad, God wants you to know that He has heard your prayers, and He is going to protect your Bible. No one will take it from you, because He will hide it from all hostile eyes. You may have to sacrifice your life later for the decision you have made today, but your Bible will be safe in your keeping either for as long as you live or until Jesus returns. God loves you, and He is so happy that you have chosen to receive Him."

Ahmad shook his head. "How could you have heard me?" he asked the angel. "I talked with Monica and whispered that prayer in another part of the prison camp."

Rafael chuckled. He folded his arms across his chest. "Ahmad, God hears whispers as plainly as He hears shouts, and He has revealed to me what went on between you and Monica."

Ahmad's voice trembled as he spoke. "Thank you," he said. Looking up at the ceiling, he added, "Jesus, You are indeed the Son of God—I see that now. Thank You!" A radiant smile spread across his face.

Theodor's eyes shone as he approached and hugged the Iranian guard. "Now I know why God allowed me to be drafted and captured," he said. "So that you, Ahmad, would have the chance to come to know Him. Until this moment, you were my enemy—now, you are my brother in the Lord!" Nodding agreement, Ahmad hugged him back.

Rafael put his arm on Theodor's shoulder as the others turned to face him. "Never again doubt, Theodor, that God has a purpose in whatever happens," he told the young Israeli soldier. "Even while you're a soldier, you are still an evangelist, and He will use you wherever you are. In whatever circumstances you face." Theodor nodded. "And don't worry about your father. He will see the light before it's over."

The guard raised his fingers for silence, then gestured toward the two. "Come with me; I will take you out." The three tiptoed out the cell door, one by one, their boots making soft thuds on the floor. 

**END OF CHAPTER 10 **

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	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

The hum of the truck's engine created a steady monotone in General Agnon's ears as he sped toward the prison camp. The cool breeze from the air conditioner felt good on his face. Tess sat in the passenger seat of the army truck with him; Gloria sat in the back.

"Please, Jehovah!" he prayed. "Get us there on time." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"He will, general." Tess patted his knee. "He will." She glanced out the window at the cloudless sky overhead.

A moment later, the prison camp appeared on the horizon. As he approached its barbed-wire fence, two soldiers darted out a narrow side door of the one-story building. "Is that—?" His voice broke.

"Yes. That's your son and Rafael." Tess leaned forward.

To Amos' horror, several Arab and Iranian soldiers rushed from around the corner and aimed rifles at the fleeing prisoners. "No!" the general shouted. "Please, Jehovah—get me to my son in time!" he begged. "Please don't let my son die!"

He slammed on the accelerator; the truck lurched forward. The mattress sagged beneath him as he leaned toward the windshield. He fought to keep his panic under control. What if his son and Rafael couldn't reach him in time? Well, Rafael couldn't get hurt, since he was an angel, but Theodor was another matter! What if the angry guards shot him?

At that moment, several figures bathed in Heavenly light appeared in a circle surrounding Theodor and Rafael. "Please, God," the general whispered. "Please, God—please!"

The two soldiers rushed out the open gate and toward the army truck; General Agnon slammed on the brakes. An explosion of muffled gunfire reached the general's ears; to his relief, no bullets struck his son or the angel. Gloria swung open the back doors.

A few seconds later, Amos heard Theodor and Rafael climbing into the back of the truck; the doors slammed shut. The gunfire continued.

"Go!" Tess ordered. "God has your back covered so the bullets can't damage your truck."

Amos obeyed. Within seconds, the prison camp had disappeared from view; the sound of gunfire faded. An hour later, the truck pulled to a stop in front of the bunker.

As Gloria and the two erstwhile P.O.W.s climbed out of the back of the truck, Amos hopped out of the driver's seat and darted toward his son. "Thank Jehovah you're safe!" he muttered, clasping Theodor to his chest.

Theodor smiled, salty tears wetting his face. "Yes, I am. Thanks to Jehovah sending his angels in our time of need."

Tess stepped toward them and laid a hand on General Agnon's arm. "Speaking of which, general, we have much to talk about, so let's go to your office. You need to listen to what your son has to say."

Amos nodded. "I owe you an apology," he told his son, as they entered the bunker. "I failed to take the necessary precautions that would have kept you and Rafael safe from capture, and then I ran off and left you to your fate. I am so sorry."

Theodor put an arm around his father's shoulder. "I've forgiven you, Papá." The two led the way toward Amos' office, their boots thumping on the stone floor.

Theodor could only hope that his father was, at long last, ready to listen. He intended to share with the general what God had revealed to him three-and-a-half years before, immediately after the Rapture. Amos flipped on the light switch; the usual harsh glare immediately bathed the whole room in its light.

Monica and Andrew joined them in the office. Tess scanned the assembled angels now standing in a half-circle in front of Amos and his son. "General, you know that Rafael, here, is an angel, and so am I." Rafael acknowledged the supervisor angel's statement with a nod. "What you don't know is that Monica, Andrew, and Gloria are also angels."

Amos's jaw dropped open. "God sent us five angels?!"

Andrew chuckled. "Yes, Amos, He did. He also sent another angel you haven't met to act as our spy, so we could deliver the intelligence you needed. He knew you and Theodor would need us, so He sent us to help you. Not only in rescuing your son, Theodor, but in bringing you to a knowledge of the truth."

The general frowned. "Truth?" He squared his shoulders, as he fixed his eyes on Andrew. The usual stern expression returned to his face.

"Yes." Stepping forward, Tess wagged her finger, an equally severe expression etched on her own ebony face. "I told you, earlier, that God had a message for you, and that you would hear the rest of it later, after your son was rescued. I believe you're ready to hear it now." She paused to gauge his expression; a bewildered look now furrowed his eyebrows. "Your son is going to deliver it, and I want you to listen to him." Her voice softened. "Your soul depends on it, Amos Agnon." 

**END OF CHAPTER 11 **

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	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

Theodor cleared his throat. The hum of the air-conditioner reached his ears as he silently prayed for anointing. "Yeshua really _is_ the Messiah our people have waited for, Papá." He paused. "All the prophecies of His coming outlined in our Torah point to Him. He fulfilled many of them in His first coming, and He's going to fulfill the rest when He comes again. Our Messiah has already come, to save us from sin, and He's coming again in three-and-a-half years—this time, to rule the earth. He's going to set up the promised Kingdom and grant us everything He promised us when He does, and He wants us to be ready." He swallowed hard. "I'm ready, Papá—I want you to be ready, too!"

General Agnon sighed. He leaned against the plaster wall, rubbing his forehead. At last, he lifted his head to gaze at Theodor. "Which prophecies can you name that He fulfilled, son?" He rested his hand just above his head on the wall's rough surface, as he spoke.

Theodor glanced at the angels, who nodded encouragingly, then turned his gaze back to his father. "Well, for one thing, He was born in Bethlehem. Just as Micah predicted." He paused. "He was a descendant of King David, just as other prophets predicted in our Torah. Isaiah predicted that He would be despised and rejected of men—a man of sorrows. Isaiah predicted that our people wouldn't value Him, and indeed, He was not valued."

Tess nodded agreement. "Jesus was pierced for your transgressions and punished for your iniquities, general, just as Isaiah said He would be. He did not open His mouth; He made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man at His death. Yet He had done no violence and had voiced no deceit."

"Yes." Theodor touched his father's arm. "Jesus was hung alongside two criminals—they were the wicked predicted by Isaiah. And a rich man buried Him in his own tomb, just as Isaiah said he would. Yeshua submitted to all that so that we could be spared the punishment we deserve—eternal separation from Jehovah."

Andrew inclined his head, sadness in his green eyes. "And He was betrayed for 30 pieces of silver—just as your Scriptures predicted. One of His 12 apostles, Judas Iscariot, committed that betrayal." He inserted his hands into his pants pockets and leaned against the desk, facing the general. "There are numerous other predictions made about His first coming we can't get into now, because there's no time. But what your son has shared with you should be enough to convince you."

Tess approached the now-humbled general. "I told you, earlier, that your son had a spiritual armor that you need." She laid a hand on his arm. "That armor is faith. Faith in your Messiah, which your son already has. If you're to survive the next few years, you will need that armor, too. The Russian invasion is just the beginning; there will be much worse times to come, before Yeshua comes back."

She paused. "And furthermore, you need to allow your son to carry out his calling. God has called Theodor to be one of 144,000 Jews whose job is to evangelize. Don't stand in the way of your son fulfilling his calling, general."

With a sigh, Amos nodded. Turning to face his desk, he picked up the glass paperweight and ran his fingers over its smooth surface. The paperweight landed with a thud when he set it down. "Very well. What do I do?"

Monica smiled. "Just pray to Him, Amos. Ask Yeshua to forgive you, to come live in your heart. Reach up to Him for mercy, and He will do the rest."

Sagging his shoulders, the general turned his back toward the others and bowed his head. For a few moments, he remained in that posture, saying nothing. Theodor folded his arms across his chest and exchanged glances with the angels.

At last, Amos pivoted to face the others, face shining. "I understand now." He looked at Theodor, now beaming. "I have been blind, but no longer. Yeshua is now my Messiah, too."

Theodor threw his arms around his father, who in turn embraced him. "I'm so glad!" the young man said. "I thank Jehovah for opening your eyes!"

General Agnon turned to face the angels. "What should I do now?" He clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke.

Gloria brushed her hair back, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Well, since your son's in the IDF, why don't you let him serve as a chaplain? Let him share the Gospel with the other soldiers, until God calls him elsewhere." Tess nodded her approval of that idea.

Amos put an arm around Theodor's shoulder. "Very well. I will do that." Theodor grinned.

Rafael approached Theodor. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Your fellow soldiers will be facing death every day. They will need to hear the Gospel, just as the guard at the prison camp did." He turned to the general. "Monica used your son's imprisonment to reach the hardened heart of an Iranian guard at the prison camp," he explained. "That guard is now a Tribulation believer. God will use your son to bring many others to a knowledge of the truth, until His Son comes back. He will go through many tough times, but he will survive until that day."

General Agnon nodded. "I know there are dangerous times ahead, but I sense that Theodor and I are ready to face them now. Thanks to God sending you to help me overcome my fears and receive His Son. I don't know if I will live to see Yeshua's return, but it pleases me to know my son will."

Andrew drew out his pocket watch. It gleamed in the overhead light's harsh glare as he read the time, then slipped it back into his pocket. "If you are called to go Home before that day comes, general, I will escort you there, myself." He smiled at General Agnon. "I'm an angel of death, and I will be extremely busy taking Home the souls of people from now until that day." He stiffened, glanced at the cracked plaster ceiling, then looked at Tess. "In fact, Tess, I've got to leave now—there's a man about to die."

Tess nodded. "Go ahead." Andrew vanished.

She turned back to Amos and Theodor. "God will be with you throughout this period. When you need angels, He will send them. Perhaps not us, as He did this time, but He will send you some."

Father and son exchanged smiles. "Yes, He will. And I thank Him," the general said. A beaming Theodor nodded agreement.

The angels disappeared. "Well, son," General Agnon said, "we have much to talk about. You will have to teach me what you have learned about Yeshua and what we can expect in the future."

Theodor smiled. "I will be pleased, to, Papá." He looked at the clock, then scratched his ear.

Amos clapped his shoulder. "We will need to stay in the Operations Room to monitor things. Why don't you tell me what you've learned while we do so?" Theodor nodded.

Father and son left the office and strolled down the hall toward the Operations Room. Meanwhile, Tess, Monica, and Gloria went up to the roof, where they dangled their legs over the edge, unseen and unheard by the two sentries on duty below.

Monica sighed. "I've been in existence for thousands of years now, and I've observed and worked with humans for much of that time. But some things I'll never understand." She shook her head, then gazed at her supervisor, bewildered. "Why do people allow themselves to get into these predicaments? The vast majority of people are going to die in the next few years, because they won't turn to God for His love and guidance. They would discover His mercy if only they would." She clasped her hands in her lap.

Tess inclined her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "All I can say, Miss Wings, is that human beings can be the biggest mysteries an angel can ever encounter. The majority of the people now alive will, indeed, make the wrong decisions; they will lose their souls and their lives as a result." She paused. "And yet, a multitude the Apostle John couldn't number will turn their lives over to God. Our job will be to help as many people as possible make the decision to do so. The Father is going to really put the pressure on mankind, now, to force people to make a choice between him and Satan."

Gloria nodded agreement, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "They will be faced with the most severe crises mankind has ever faced. Surely, that will make it easy for them to choose."

Tess snorted. "You'd think so, baby, but don't forget, the devil himself will be fighting tooth and nail to get them to make the wrong decision. And we have personal experience in seeing the damage he can do to people's souls. And far too many people listen to his lies instead of to God's truth. That is doubly the case now, during this Tribulation."

Monica turned to Gloria. "We are going to come to whomever the Father sends us to, to help them make the right decisions. To reach them with the truth." She smiled. "To make the decision that will preserve their souls, but not necessarily their physical lives." Sadness creased her forehead. "Andrew and his colleagues will be very busy taking most of them Home."

"Yes." Tess glanced at the sky. "All right, now, we'd better be going. The Father has another assignment for us."

The three angels disappeared from view. Silence descended over the bunker; a cool breeze toyed with the blades of grass stretching to the mountains in the horizon. Over the bunker, a white dove flew, softly cooing. 

**THE END **

**©2005, by KathyG.**

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